


this river is wild

by Suicix



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mornings, River Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5632354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, this is what's best: the morning, the quiet, each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this river is wild

**Author's Note:**

> so i said to myself, "man, i need to write fic of this ship that isn't angsty or too noticeably au", because the only fic i've (or anyone else) posted with this ship before this was Angst Central, and maaaan do i have aus (currently unfinished ones). but anyway, i really love this ship. it's a shame no-one else does.

When Jinder wakes up, feeling around for another body on the bed beside him before his eyes are even open, he’s alone. Maybe that’s not fair to say, though: the other side of the bed is still warm, and he can hear the clatter of cupboards opening and closing coming from the kitchen. Not alone, then. Especially not when there’s the sound of Drew singing, too: slightly muffled but certainly audible. Jinder smiles and leans back into the pillows some more, closing his eyes again but not falling back into sleep.

It’s the footsteps back towards the bedroom that have him opening them and actually sitting up, not willing to risk the very real possibility of Drew deciding to jump or shake him awake if it looks like he’s still asleep. Eventually there’s Drew on the other side of the room, opening and closing the door with his foot because he’s got a mug in each hand. He’s still singing – no, just humming now, doing some stupidly endearing half-dance over to the bed, his hair swinging over his shoulders, just about managing not to spill the contents of the cups. He also happens to still be mostly naked, which – well. Jinder’s not going to lie and say that he doesn’t appreciate that.

Drew still seems to be in some sort of trance as he makes his way over to their bed, moving to an invisible, inaudible beat. He’s kind of like a river, like this, Jinder thinks: cool, calm. Free-flowing. He’s definitely in a good mood if he’s more like the gentle flow of water to the sea than crashing waves and high tides. That doesn’t happen too often, but if Drew really does overflow and flood, he’s a tsunami, unpredictable as they come.

Not now, though. Now he’s not necessarily completely under control – because honestly, how can he be when he’s practically prancing his way to the bed with two steaming mugs of coffee and his eyes only half open? – but he’s contained, somehow. The current of a river.

“A-ha!” he exclaims, his eyes flashing from faraway to alert like lightning when he finally notices that Jinder has woken up. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” Jinder answers, amused as Drew clambers onto the bed but doesn’t get back under the covers, pinning the duvet down so there’s little way for Jinder to move.

“Thought I might have had to force you awake myself,” Drew says, setting one mug up on the window sill behind the bed and passing the other one to Jinder. Jinder can’t drink it yet, not when it hasn’t cooled down even just a little, but he knows that when he does, it’ll be perfect. “You were sound asleep when I woke up.”

“Well, I’m glad you don’t have to do that. I don’t think I’d appreciate it very much.” He still smiles, though, and Drew ducks forward for a kiss. The coffee in the cup sloshes around a little, threatening to spill over and scald them both. “Hey, don’t make me spill it.”

“Here.” Drew kneels up properly, holding his hand out for the mug so he can place it aside. “That better?”

“Better,” Jinder tells him. Drew leans in to kiss him again, and Jinder reaches out to thread a hand through Drew’s hair. “Much better. Here, get back under the covers.”

“What, you don’t want to look at me? You wanna hide me away under the sheets?” Drew jokes, sitting up and pretending to strike a pose. Jinder rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the smile.

“No, because it’s _cold_. I don’t want you to be cold. Plus... I want you here.”

That’s enough for Drew, apparently: he resigns himself to getting under the duvet, almost immediately tangling their legs up once he’s there, just trying to get as close as he can be.

“You got any plans today?” Jinder asks him, leaning into the touch.

“ _Plans?_ ” Drew replies, sounding scandalised, as if just the very idea of having anything organised is absolutely absurd. “I wanted to spend at least some of the morning in bed with my lovely boyfriend, thank you very much. What’s he got to say about that, hm?”

“Oh,” Jinder says, and this time, it really is impossible to even _try_ to hold back a smile. “I think he definitely agrees.”

At that, Drew’s arms tighten around him some more, and – _OK_. Like this, with Drew beside him – all warmth and love and most of all, _home_ – it’s pretty ridiculous to even imagine ever wanting anything else.


End file.
